


Kisses on the Foreheads of the Lovers Wrapped in your Arms

by keptinslog



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: FTM, FTM Will Graham, First Kiss, Fluff, Gender Dysphoria, Hannigram - Freeform, I promise this isn't smut guys, M/M, One Shot, Season/Series 01, Therapy, Trans Will Graham, Transgender, haircut, let me know if I missed anything, neck kink, that was also weird to tag, that was weird to tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-12-12 06:36:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11731542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keptinslog/pseuds/keptinslog
Summary: AFAB Will needs a haircut and Hannibal is of course more than happy to help.  Fluff ensues.  (AKA: Will Graham's Big Giant Neck Kink).Thanks to @gojiira for the prompt.





	Kisses on the Foreheads of the Lovers Wrapped in your Arms

**Author's Note:**

> The title is a lyric from the song Apocalypse by Cigarettes After Sex (thanks again @gojiira)

      "Something is bothering you."  
      Will scoffed, adjusting his body in the undoubtably expensive leather chair. "Aren't you perceptive," he bit out, giving a short, nervous laugh.  
      Despite Will's admittedly unnecessary attitude, Doctor Lecter smiled, his lips curling up at the sides in that way that made Will feel like he was sinking. "I will take that as a firm 'yes'."  
      "It's stupid," Will blurted, shifting in Hannibal's giant leather chair once more, feeling as if he just might drown in the cushions.  
      "I would argue against that," Hannibal replied quickly yet smoothly.  
      Will squinted at the Doctor, who was firmly planted in an identical chair only a few feet across from him. "You haven't even heard what it is."  
      "True," Hannibal admitted. "And yet, not once have I found you to have a tendency to say 'stupid' things. Then again, dear Will, you are full of surprises."  
      There it was. That smirk again. Will huffed out an unsteady sigh and decided he would be better off looking down at his hands. "My hair."  
      As Will took a daring glance back up in attempts to read Hannibal's face, he caught the Doctor quizzically studying him for just a moment. Most days, Will would keep his hair in a messy bun near the top of his head. After work, once he knew that he wouldn't have to interact with strangers if he truly did not wish to, he tended to let his curls fall to his shoulders. That's where they were resting at the moment.  
      "I see nothing wrong with it," Hannibal answered simply. Coming from anyone else's mouth, it would have been patronizing. But from Doctor Lecter, the words sounded almost believable. Will hated himself for letting himself nearly believe those words.  
      "It's not...bad," Will stammered, struggling to piece together his thoughts. "But...on me...it's a detriment." Will was inwardly hoping that Hannibal would somehow magically pick up on what he was really trying to get at.  
      "May I ask, Will, is this related to your transition?"  
      Will let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding in. "Yeah. It is." He paused briefly, then continued, "It's the one thing that...won't let me, uh, pass anymore. I mean, my voice has dropped to an acceptable level, I bind my chest, but for some ungodly reason I still have this dead animal clinging to my head." Hannibal noticeably raised an eyebrow at the "dead animal" comment. Will cleared his throat, his anxiety rising as he finished, "I just...I can't stand the way my students look at me sometimes. The way their eyes will drift to me instead of their notes during lectures. The whispering. God, I just...I despise it."  
      "Passing is a social construct, is it not?" Hannibal began tentatively, testing the waters. Will shrugged and let his gaze fall to his feet. "If you are happy with yourself at this stage in your transition, is that not what truly matters?"  
      Will laughed cynically. "I never thought I'd have to say this to you, but I just don't think you really...understand." He instantly regretted the somewhat harsh comment, but as always, Hannibal remained unscathed. "What you're saying is right, and I know that it's right, but it still doesn't matter. This hair...it represents such a big part of my life that I just want to bury forever."  
      There was an uncomfortable silence. Doctor Lecter, of course, was the first to break it. "Is there a specific reason you have put off a trim for so long? It seems that a haircut would have been the simplest part of this journey for you."  
      Christ. He was right again. Then again, wasn't he always? "Maybe it's the Catholic guilt and the memories of bad safety-scissors accidents from childhood attempts?" Will sputtered out.  
      Hannibal let out a genuine chuckle, something rare for the Doctor. "You know, it does not truly matter as to why. I am here to help you, using any and all methods I have at hand. And I just so happen to have a pair of rarely-used shears in my desk."  
      Will froze. What the fuck? "Is this therapy?"  
      "Dear Will, you worry too much," Hannibal stated the obvious. He was already out of his chair and in the process of digging through his desk drawers. "If it consoles you to know, I do cut my own hair. Cutting yours would probably be far easier than managing my own. And it would be my pleasure, if only to relieve a slight amount of your grief."  
      Will didn't exactly know how to react. Then again, this wasn't exactly a normal situation. But Hannibal seemed more than happy to do this favor for Will, despite it being quite odd, and Will really did need to get this out of the way sooner or later. "Fuck it, why not," he grunted, letting his head hit the soft leather back of the chair.  
      "That's what I like to hear," Hannibal chirped.  
      Before Will could properly brace himself, the Doctor was behind him. Hannibal's presence felt heavy as he hovered above Will's significantly smaller frame. Will suppressed an embarrassing yelp when he suddenly felt Hannibal's large, warm fingers gently prodding at the base of his neck through his hair. "I'm going to need you to tilt your head up for me."  
      Will did what he was told without replying. Then Hannibal's hands were on him again, this time gathering the hair hanging at the sides of Will's face into a makeshift ponytail. He painfully tried to ignore every time Doctor Lecter's fingers would happen to ghost over the sensitive skin of his neck. Will shivered as he felt the blades glide almost effortlessly through his unruly hair. He supposed Hannibal knew his way around sharp tools. Maybe prior experience in surgery helped with hair care. After getting the first large chunk out of the way, Hannibal's shears found their way up to Will's bangs and then throughout the rest of his head, where he shaped and layered his curls. He ran his fingers through Will's hair as he cut, and Will found himself lost in the sensation.  
      As Hannibal was nearing the end, Will could feel the prickling of freshly-cut hairs on his neck. He began to fidget at the uncomfortable sensation.  
      "It seems that I've finished," Hannibal announced suddenly, startling Will from his thoughts. "Let me clean up your neck a bit."  Once again, Hannibal's strong hands were on the back of Will's neck, brushing away the stray hairs. Will couldn't stop himself from shuddering. Hannibal's movements paused.  
      "Are you alright?" the Doctor inquired with misplaced concern.  
Will flushed. "Uh, I...yeah," he choked out, embarrassment washing over him.  
      Almost experimentally, Hannibal's fingers lightly brushed the base of Will's neck once more. Will repressed a strangled noise, only a humiliating squeak escaping his lips. Behind him, Hannibal tittered.  
      Was Doctor Lecter trying to torture him? Of course the man was attractive, Will had always been blindingly aware of that fact. And, well, charming. And mysterious. God, Will hated himself for being so susceptible to cliches. And now, Hannibal was so close, almost reachable. His hands were on Will's skin.  
      "Can I, um, please just see it?" Will asked, sounding more demanding than he probably meant to.  
      "Of course, Will," Hannibal replied softly. He could practically hear the smirk on his lips.  
      Before Will could blink, Hannibal was gone and then back again, this time in front of him. In his right hand he held a small, decorative mirror. Of course even his mirrors would be unnecessarily fancy. With a flourish, he presented it to Will, and Will nearly didn't recognize the man staring back at him.  
      "I...um, uh..." Will swallowed hard, his vision blurring. "Wow.  He found himself genuinely smiling or the first time in, well, a while. "Thank you, Doctor Lecter."  
      "Hannibal," the Doctor purred. "And you are more than welcome, dear Will."  
      That...pet name, or whatever it was, really did something unholy to Will. He shakily stood to face Hannibal.  
      "Thank you, Hannibal."  
      He tentatively wrapped his arms around the taller man's shoulders, nearly having to get up onto the tips of his toes. Hannibal's arms were soon slipping around Will's waist as if they were made to be there. Will melted into his touch, sighing contentedly. Then Hannibal's slender fingers were delicately wrapped around Will's jaw, lifting the smaller man's head to face him. Will shivered, feeling Hannibal's pinky caressing his neck as he held his chin.  
      "I'm afraid we have crossed a few lines when it comes to your therapy," Hannibal mused, a hint of a grin on the edges of his lips. Then, a more timid voice, "Are you alright with this, Will?"  
      Will steadied himself and then leaned in, capturing the Doctor's lips. Hannibal did not show any signs of surprise or disgust, instead immediately falling into the kiss. After a few blissful seconds, Will pulled back, stepping away from Hannibal.  
      "I'm, er, I'm sorry," he stammered, pushing up his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose worriedly. "I don't know why I did that."  
      Hannibal took an experimental step closer. Will didn't move. "You don't need a reason. There is nothing to apologize for."  
      This time, it was Hannibal kissing Will, his soft lips descending to the younger man's forehead as he brushed his chestnut curls to the side with a free hand. It was a peck, nothing more. But it was arguably more intimate than the lip-on-lip display from earlier.  
      Hannibal's head ducked down to be at level with the nape of Will's neck. His hot breath came out in gentle puffs on Will's skin.  
      "I believe your time is up for today," Hannibal informed rather professionally, despite the fact that he was practically whispering into Will's ear. "But your visits do not have to end here. You are free to stop by my house any time you need me, and I will be there for you. I am more than willing to be your anchor."  
      Will could only nod, the realization of what had just occurred in the past hour only now washing over him. Both men took a step back, brushing themselves off and gathering themselves together. Will began making his way to the door as Hannibal retreated to his desk. Before leaving, Will stopped without turning around.  
      "Thank you again, Hannibal. For...everything."  
      And before he knew it, Will was back in his car, making the long journey back to his home in Wolf Trap. But this time, the hollowness inside of him seemed to be filled, just slightly, by a warm, buzzing glow. He knew only to describe it as something akin to love.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey I'm a gay trans man so like if you're here to be transphobic take it somewhere else lmao


End file.
